


Don't call me home yet

by horrorriz



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ed struggles how to come to terms with his feelings, Ed’s perspective, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, and how to confess them, s05e11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 18:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorriz/pseuds/horrorriz
Summary: Ed couldn’t blame him for going back, Gotham was his home after all, but Ed’s home was Oswald. He couldn’t let him fight alone, lose him again —not when he had just found his way back to him.





	Don't call me home yet

 

 

Ed was situated on the stairs leading up to the submarine, knees up high with his lanky arms wrapped around himself, feeling as if he wanted to curl in on himself. A method his shadow of a younger self would deal with hurt, disappointment and pernicious pain —threatening to fall deep down the pit of memories he had hoped to keep buried deep inside. The tremors going through him grew stronger, shaking him at his core about this inevitable truth.  
He was alone. He would always be alone.  
The harsh chuckle stuck itself in his throat, swallowed by a sob as the tears began to fall.  
  
A pair of big eyes looked up at him, questioning the drops falling onto him and wetting his fur. Edward stood up on his hind legs in a clumsy attempt to lick some of them away.  
  
Ed didn’t even try to push him away —no, he pulled the small animal closer and buried his face in his fur, soaking him further.  
Wasn’t this ironic? Seeking comfort in the pet named after himself, oh what a pitiful human he was. Oswald wouldn’t even miss him, he said his goodbyes to the dog rather than to him.  
  
The dog barked.  
  
Yet he left the dog with Ed, claiming he would be able to keep the small creature safe —after having expressed how much he cared for the pet.  
A small voice in the back of his head whispered that perhaps Oswald had spoken to the dog instead of Ed, fearing what the reaction would have been to display any still harbouring emotions. It had not gone so well last time had it?  
  
It did not change the reality, however. He was still left at the machine he had worked on alone for the past nine months, the only motivation driving him being that he would get out of the city which had done nothing other than cause him pain. He had expected he would not be alone, the only person who had ever truly expressed interest in his well-being by his side.  
Now, Oswald was gone as well. Having left him for the city Ed despised more than anything, his walls were imploding in on him and he was suffocating under the rubble.  
  
Everyone left, eventually. They couldn’t bear the sight of him in the long run, his mere presence dragging them down to his own personal hell, threatening them to catch fire and burn with him. Ashes of his sad existence smothered by the cold gust of Gotham, mixed with the fires erupting all over city.  
  
Oswald was out there, alone. Fighting for a place that done him no favors either. As soon as he had climbed up, the city and the people had tore him back down, leaving him in the dirt again. Yet there he was, in the crossfire to sacrifice everything for those who never even cared for him.  
  
They were the same, both suffering on their lonely islands, carrying the weight of their miserable pasts they were always attempting to rectify. Get revenge on the city itself by conquering it, making it theirs to command. Kings over their own destiny at last.  
  
Used, betrayed, hurt and fallen. They would still rise, they would still fight, because Gotham was their home. Not because of the pesky peasants that inhabited the wretched place, but a sense of pride for their own creation. Having remolded themselves to not only survive but to thrive, in a city sculpted by a life of crime and intellectual challenges worthy of minds like theirs.  
  
The real riddle of it all was, why walk alone in the safety of the light when you could find relief of another even in the most darkest of times?  
  
He needed Oswald, he was the only one.  
The only who had ever truly cared.  
Who had ever really seen him.  
Where was he now, where was Ed when Oswald needed him the most? Would he let him  be scorched in the fires, dying alone with his principles, which had never provided aid to this lonely reality.  
There were no winners, only survivors —and Edward wouldn’t let Oswald perish with no one by his side.  
  
They had not only become partners with a motive to escape these past nine months, no. The comfort of their friendship offered far more than that, a calm he had not felt since the time Oswald had rescued him from Arkham, given him a purpose, a life to fight for. Meaning in the turmoil that had always stormed inside his mind.  
He had felt like it was home. Gotham was not his home, he had no desire to fight or put his life on the line for this pile of ash the city was rapidly coming to.  
Oswald was his home, perhaps he had been for a long time, only Ed had been too blind to see it.  
  
Regardless, he could not stay here to listen to the screams of the city dying with Oswald in the front lines. He could not get into the submarine and escape with head between his legs like a scared animal either.  
He too could fight for what mattered to him, he would fight for Oswald.  
  
Ed looked over to the dog, who tilted his head in curiosity like animals tend to do. Knowing and so innocent of the tumult around them. Oswald would kill him if the animal was hurt, so the best and safest place for him would probably be in the sub.  
As he carried Edward down into the machine he wondered what he would even say to Oswald, he had already admitted the city meant nothing to him and he had no reason to stay. Surely he could not admit the true reason, not yet, at least.  
  
The dog barked one more time, as if to scold him for his thoughts.  
  
Maybe it was now or never?  
He sighed and stroked Edward a few times. “I’ll be back for you, together with Oswald, I promise. Thank you.”

 

***

 

Ed entered the GCPD, making a beeline straight for the captain's office, with a hunch that the Oswald could always be found close to the collective favorite, self-inflicted hero James Gordon.  
  
Stopping just outside the door, it was easy to eavesdrop on the conversation going on inside.  
He wanted to intervene, to step in and put an end to that self-righteous trademark smug look Jim was probably wearing, thinking he was all high and mighty. Perhaps if he had been smarter, he could see that it wasn’t as black and white as good and bad guys, and how he was wrong in the way he had always mistreated him and Oswald, like their souls were defiled by their supposedly wicked ways. Never once had there been a mention or consideration that what they had been through had driven them upon that vile path —often by the likes of him!  
  
The rage was building up inside him. These were the people Oswald was willing to risk everything for? People who had never cared for him, only merely tolerated his presence when he could offer something in their favor. Surely he was smarter than this, falling for Jim’s trap, with  a few carefully chosen words, meant to paint a picture of having a shared cause and goal. However, it all came down to how he would use Oswald as another target for the masses to protect his own.  
  
Harvey passed by him in such a hurry that he failed to notice Ed pressed against the wall outside the office.  
Barging in, interrupting the conversation to announce Bane had advanced and it was indeed now or never. With minimal men at that, it was nothing more than a suicide mission.  
  
This was the time to step in, offer Oswald some relief from the humiliation.  
If this is what Oswald truly wanted, he would not let him do it alone by the side of someone like Jim Gordon or Harvey Bullock.  
If this was the thing that would finally have them killed, the end of the Penguin and Riddler, before they hardly had the time to start. It would be at each other's sides, Ed didn't plan to let Oswald out of his sight ever again.  
  
So, he made his presence known, his intentions clear, and saw Oswald's face light up in surprised delight, as if he had hoped for this all along when he had told Ed to follow his heart for once.

 

***

 

The march up to the hold felt very much like a walk to their last stand. Strangely enough, Ed felt an eerie calm about it, an inexplicable content. So this is what it felt like, having accepted your fate, it felt oddly right, the knowledge he would die fighting by Oswald’s side. In a lot of ways, Ed owed many thanks to  Oswald for who he had ultimately become.  
  
“For Gotham,” Jim called out the order, expression stern as they all readied their weapons —a pathetic group in comparison to the army below them.  
  
They didn’t stand a chance, but Ed found himself strangely indifferent.  
The feeling, standing up there together with Oswald, guns in hand and for a shared cause —even with Oswald unaware of his real reason to be there, cloaked by the white lie of wanting to save the city as well. It felt… Right, a taste on his tongue of the team up he had long wished for, schemes to execute together side by side —drunk on power and gleeful bliss. Emotions swelling and fueling the megalomania fuzzing the edges of reality, the only real thing being how they pressed against each other.    
  
Oswald’s unashamed insults filling the air, aggravating the enemies further without any speck of self-preservation to the shower of bullets coming for them. Fearless, beautiful.  
Ed could not refrain from smiling, a villainous shark grin spreading across his lips as he caught a glimpse of the Penguin’s mocking laughter.  
  
  
Everything happened in a split second, one moment Ed was admiring the features of Oswald as they ducked down to take cover as another wave of shots flew above their heads —the next...  
Ed barely had time to detect the grenade as it rolled towards them, pin pulled out and doomed to go off to possibly end them both.  
  
His prediction had been correct after all, he was about to close his eyes and embrace death as he heard the call of his name, a desperate screech of panic far too late to provide any real warning, quickly followed by a weight on him as Oswald threw his body to shield him from the blast going off, momentarily blinding his sight and making his head spin.  
  
Edward blinked a few times and tried to make sense of his surroundings again, focus falling on Oswald throwing himself back against the concrete ground while pressing his hand to his eye.  
“Oswald? Oswald!” He called, barely registering the sound of his own voice through the muffled ringing in his ears the blast had caused.  
Slowly the sound cleared up again and he realized Oswald was screaming, not only that —bleeding from his right eye, thick crimson clogging his sight, slipping down between his fingers as he desperately clutched his hand against the wound. Ed gasped at the sight and grabbed hold of the other man to steady him, half frozen by shock and fear.  
This is not what he had in mind, no. No! He was here to protect Oswald, not the other way around, he did not deserve this. Ed had done nothing to be worthy of a sacrifice like it. Oswald was hurt, and it was all his fault.  
  
Somewhere distantly he could hear another blast and the ground shook below them, Jim shouting they had broken through and ordering them to retreat.  
  
Without thinking, he grabbed a hold of Oswald, supporting him the best he could. He needed to get him away from here, get him safe, patched up. Oswald held onto him in return, clutching to his arms and digging his nails deep into the fabric of his jacket.  
  
They carried one another in that tight shelter, until they had to part for the stairs, Ed waited for Oswald while he watched everyone else rush passed, Jim had the audacity to tell Oswald to hurry up. He grimaced as the detective passed him and took Oswald’s arm once again when he finally reached the last step, steadying him as he almost fell over by a sudden vertigo spell.  
  
“Wait,” Oswald called and sunk down against the railing, needing to compose himself and get his head to stop spinning from the blood loss.  
  
“Oswald we need to get going.”  
  
“Just give me a minute!” He snarled back and rested his head against the metal with such force Ed could swear he heard low cursing under his breath from the impact.  
  
Ed watched how Oswald grimaced, gritting his teeth and doing his best not to curse and scream at the pain and what must still be shock and fear of potentially losing his eye or at the very least forever altering his vision to be worse.  
  
He should have seen it coming, with how he claimed to be the smartest man in Gotham, when it really mattered his mind failed him. Instead of calculating the time it would have taken to move and get, not just him, but both of them away unharmed, he had failed. Normally it would have taken only a fraction of a second for the gears to work out the plan in his well-oiled brainworks, yet nothing.  
  
Then Oswald called for him, a heartbreaking cry of fear —of losing him?  
Time and time again Oswald had given himself up, his empire and own sanity for Ed’s sake. Thinking back how he had used to call him out for being selfish, how he would offer anything or anyone for him to rise. Now seeing how he was yet again hurt, blood fresh and flowing —because of him, Ed had hurt him, again.  
Love is sacrifice, the willingness to put someone else’s needs before your own. He had proven that now, and Ed was ready to believe it, at last.  
  
He just couldn’t hold it in anymore, all the thoughts and guilt flowing out of him through the weak apology in comparison to what he felt, what was on the line.  
“I’m sorry, Oswald.” Ed looked up, careful not to raise his head enough to see the true horror his inaction had caused. “I saw the grenade and I just froze.” Time slowed down, turned to ice yet it moved at a hundred miles per hour, impossible to keep up.  
  
“Oh, shh, it’s the least I could do.”  
  
“Oswald I–”  
  
“Don’t.” Oswald said with a low, pained voice. “Don’t push yourself down further, there was nothing you could have done.”  
  
He gave Ed a small smile between the short struggling breaths before he began an attempt to stand. Ed rushed forward to help him up, the sudden proximity showering over him, enclosing him and making him strangely hyper-aware of the heat radiating from Oswald. When had they been this close last, and why had he not noticed how thin the air had become between them?  
  
“You came back for me.”  
  
Ed didn’t reply, humbled over how Oswald could be so calm, reassuring in the most selfless way. He really had come far, and Ed didn’t deserve it.  
Meanwhile, he wondered if it all would have been worth it, perhaps he should have stopped him then and there at the pier and forced him along with him.  
If he had not been there, Oswald wouldn’t have thrown himself to his rescue and gotten hurt in the process.  
  
“Perhaps we should have let Gotham burn anyway.”  
  
A hand was placed on Ed’s shoulder, startling him. It was gentle at first, grip then tightening, scratching down into the fabric beneath. Some sort of inner struggle appeared to be going on behind Oswald’s aching eye, determining if he would indeed say what he contemplated or not.  
“I’m just asking you to trust me this time, Ed.”  
  
An uncanny ability of Oswald, always seeming to know what was going on behind the well-guarded vault that contained his inner workings, his soul, his heart.  
  
It was the bottomless trust he had found in Oswald during the months they had been together which had brought him back here, to the burning battlefield to stand by his side. Only to see him fall.  
  
Ed stepped away from the touch, not comfortable of how it made his heart beat faster, afraid Oswald would notice.  
  
“Come on Oswald, let’s get you laying down somewhere and have it properly looked at.” Ed tried to sound assuring, when in all honesty he was terrified, the remorse opening up an aching hole in his chest.  
  
“Alright but first, tell me, honestly. How bad is it?” Slowly, Oswald removed the cloth from his still bleeding eye, wincing at the fresh strike of pain it caused.  
  
Ed swallowed hard, bracing himself for the gore, but nothing could have prepared him for just how upset it would make him.  
He had seen corpses and mutilated bodies of the worst kind during his time at the GCPD. Yet seeing Oswald with what first appeared as a gaping hole of his eye, upon closer inspection, briefly gave a glimpse of his damaged eyeball under all the loose tissue still sticky with blood.  
Edward held back a gag, praying that Oswald’s compromised sight would miss it.  
  
“It… Looks fine. Just need a bit tending to it.”

 

***

 

There was something strangely soft and unfamiliar with the way Oswald looked when he slept, for the years that had passed since the fateful night where Ed had found the kingpin of crime dying in the woods —the expression of calm that soothed his otherwise furrowed lines of pity, worry and rage remained the same while the Penguin dwelled in deep slumber.  
He let out a breathy sigh in his sleep which made Edward jump, before realizing he was still sound asleep.  
  
Truth be told he was starting to get worried, Oswald was not one to stay unconscious this long even after the worst injuries, perhaps he had been more severely hurt than he first thought? Lee had reassured him that it was merely a splinter that had caused the damage to his eye, and while it may never go back to how it was, he could possibly have some sight left, if lucky. The body of Oswald Cobblepot was starting to look like the battlefields he had fought on, suffering from the injures that not even time could heal. This didn’t even include the wounds that ran so deep that one could wonder if there even remained any speck of hope and compassion in the man, his soul so profoundly damaged it could not hold any love anymore. Something partially caused by Ed himself…  
  
Just as Ed was about to get up and excuse himself to the bathroom to collect himself from the liquid suddenly threatening to spill from his eyes, Oswald’s single still-intact one fluttered open. A pale sea green shade looked around the room until finally settling onto Ed, searching for answers. He opened his mouth to speak but as he blinked his hand moved up to the still blood soaked bandages on his right eye and next Ed knew the room filled with a ear-piercing scream of despair as Oswald remembered the recent events that had led to his injury.  
  
“No! Nononono!” Oswald struggled and tossed as he furiously moved his left eye around trying to adjust to his diminished sight.  
  
Ed grabbed the other man to steady him, offering reassurance with his presence until Oswald eventually settled enough to listen.  
  
“Take it easy Oswald! Don’t strain yourself even further, you still need to rest.”  
  
“I don’t have time to lay around here! Gotham is burning, Bane is going to ruin everything, we need to—”  
  
“Shhh,” Ed hushed the other man by putting a finger over his mouth. “Listen, you won’t be able to do anything until we get you at least partially fixed up. Can you sit?”  
  
Oswald shifted, groaning as he did his best to pull his weight up to rest against the stiff metal headboard of the makeshift hospital bed located in the GCPD examination room. It hurt, but he could manage. More pressing matters needed to be taken care of than him having suffered from yet another devastating injury to further cripple him.  
  
“I’ll manage. What’s the status?”  
  
“The kids apparently took down Wayne enterprises, limiting Bane’s options. He is lining up his soldiers heading for the GCPD now, Gordon is planning to single handedly go up against him.”  
  
“Trying to be the heroic martyr, huh? You’d think a man who just became a father would have different priorities.”  
  
“I believe you and Jim do share one thing in common, the way you both put greater value in this city above than anything else.” Ed’s gaze fell to the ground. No matter how much he wished for it, nothing could ever come close to Oswald’s love for the city.  
  
Oswald scoffed, not needing to hear the rest of the sentence to understand. “Oh please, I just came back because this city is my legacy. If anyone should burn it to the ground, it will be me. Not even dear old Jimbo can stop me then.”  
  
Ed tightened his fists in his lap, but did not reply. He couldn't, afraid he would lose his cool if he were to speak.  
  
"What are we waiting for then?" Oswald demanded impatiently as he began to stand.  
  
Ed shot up out of his own chair to force Oswald back to sit on the bed.  
"Hold on Oswald, let me just check on your bandages and… You're as good to go as you can be, for now."

 

***

 

At this point, Edward would follow Oswald anywhere. So to be just a few men and women marching up to an army of several hundred, he was certain that third time’s the charm, and death was the only possible ending to this.  
  
Standing there with his heart in his throat, closely by Oswald's side, both feeling the intensity —the dread creeping up on them. Their hands found each other, squeezing tight while no one noticed. It was an innocent gesture, yet it meant everything.  
  
The crowd closed in behind them, led by Barbara Kean. Surrounding them like a protective shield, the people of Gotham who had stayed behind when the city fell. Who wouldn’t leave their home.  
Ed felt like an imposter among the group, but the pressure of his hand clutching Oswald’s  reassured him not to worry.  
  
He was home, after all.

 

***

 

“Where is it? I could have sworn this was the location.”  
Hobbling around, Oswald scanned the pier from the sky down into the waters as if the submarine would materialize out of thin air.  
  
“It is. It would appear we have been robbed.” The reply felt automatic, bitter. He had hoped that now with the city —or what was left of it, saved from the worst blow, Oswald would be willing to carry out their original plan to escape and start anew.  
He should have known his luck would not to give him such pleasuraties.  
  
Oswald started one of his infamous tantrums, voice turning sour and cracking with the loud screeching echoing over the waters before them.  
  
Then suddenly, he stopped. Expression turning from white rage to fear with one desperate realization.  
“Edward? EDWARD!?”  
  
Ed almost replied, gut instinct at the calling of his own name until the situation caught up to him. The dog, he had left the dog in the submarine. It was gone, everything. The sub, the treasure, the pet just as Ed had started to take a liking to him.  
Shattered, just like his plans of a life together with Oswald, because there was no way he would stick with Ed in this treacherous city, where no matter how sincere the promises, you would always end up with a knife in your back.  
  
“What brilliant idea of yours was it to leave my dog in the SUBMARINE?” Oswald cried out, throwing himself at Ed, hands clasping around his neck.  
Ed didn’t even attempt to struggle, he deserved this, he had for a long time. He embraced this last closeness with gratitude, at least he wouldn’t die alone. He closed his eyes and welcomed his oncoming death for the last time that day.  
  
The grasp around his neck loosened, the heat of Oswald’s proximity moved away.  
  
“Oh thank god, Edward!”  
  
Ed opened his eyes in confusion, a slight cough escaping his throat as he tried to regain normal breathing after the strangulation. In the corner of his eye, he saw a wagging tail and the telltale waddle of his small body rushing towards his beloved owner.  
The saying that dogs resemble their owners really did have some base of truth in it.  
  
He let out a silent breath of relief, rapidly replaced by a smirk of triumph. As if noticing, the dog proceeded to greet Ed as well, who extended his hand as a gesture of gratitude which the dog happily licked in affection.  
Ed had succeeded in his promise to bring Oswald back to him, after all. Small mercies, he supposed.  
  
“Since when did you two get so close?” Oswald watched the interaction between the two.  
  
“You did tell him to trust the man in green.”

 

***

 

Ed was standing just outside the doors, well aware Oswald was waiting inside. He had just excused himself to take Edward for a walk, something that Oswald did not stop to question or prevent, happy to see his two favorite Edwards finally getting along.  
It had all been a ploy, of course. A distraction, buying some time to figure out just what he was supposed to do.  
  
It gnawed inside him, vines constricted his breathing to come out shallow and strained, thorns piercing his heart from the tight grasp he couldn’t escape. There was only one solution, only one way to regain freedom once more. Allowing the roses to bloom with a confession from his heart —allowing his spirit free and the passion he had once claimed to weaken him to take over.  
It was so simple yet the most difficult decision he had ever faced before, something logic and wits could not conquer. No, he was left to the mercy of the oh so human nature that emotions provided, a quality he believed to have never mastered —if anyone ever had.  
  
Sometimes it felt like Oswald had an additional sense of sorts, the ability to see what truly lingered inside one’s heart, whether it was his own or other’s. Perhaps it’s what truly made him so dangerous. He could see inside your soul, your very core of being —and pick it apart, sort it in neat little stacks where he could see the pattern fully laid out. With that devious smirk of his he would make his move, and tear you down by taking away what means most to you.  
It seemed like this power of his lacked in one department however, he had a blind spot to his own value —unable to see what was right in front of him when it came to the possibility that their weakness was him. Ed had really tricked him back then, made him believe that he was wrong and Oswald meant nothing to him, that he couldn’t possibly love him, especially not after what he had done.  
  
Oh he was a fool, both of them were. For two of the most dangerous men in Gotham, they acted like scared sheep when it came to the topic of _love_. Tongue tied and frozen limbs forever cursed to remain alone unless they broke this pattern.  
At this point Oswald had showed greater bravery than him, being able to actually confess his feelings. Ed had to prove himself better than that, but where would he start?  
Where all answers come from, naturally. A riddle. The ultimate riddle to win his heart.  
  
  
He stepped into the room, the library that had become his sanctuary in no man’s land. Oswald sat in one of the armchairs, trying to hide how he was again gritting his teeth, clearly in pain from his eye —or what was left of it.  
An injury that was a product of the sacrifice Oswald had done for him without even blinking, a gut feeling taking over him as the decision was the most natural in the world. A clear sign of just how much Oswald still cared for Ed.  
  
The dog ran up to his owner —Ed was just for borrow anyway, stood up against his legs and Oswald reached down to stroke and baby talk the animal. Edward offered a soft side to Oswald that Ed had never witnessed elsewhere, perhaps seen glimpses of towards himself, once upon a time. That time had passed now, and the guard that Oswald had up, kept himself  closed in, an armor where his feelings might still be clear, but his heart unavailable. Ed had the key, and he lost it —did he still know how to pick a lock?  
  
  
Ed’s gaze fell upon the rows of books surrounding them, endless stories and facts to decipher the human nature. Yet none of them seemed to really be able to break the code on how to win a heart.  
  
He wished it could be as simple as fiction painted it to be, books and movies were the only times he could allow himself to float away and feel the emotions he insisted on repressing. The signs of weakness that had caused him so much pain as a child, even as an adult, since he still lingered on the immature need that maybe someone could like him for who he was after all. Nothing but a fantasy, people were too judgemental and cruel to find any light in someone like Edward Nygma.  
He had become the Riddler in hopes that he could discover the respect he lacked with fear instead. Once again he had come out empty handed, ridiculed even by his former best friend at first.  
  
Something changed along the way, maybe it was out of pure desperation for Oswald to find salvation —or resurfaced feelings of lost times. He was braver than Edward in that sense, being able to stay true to his emotions. Oswald didn’t ever make his love for Ed outspoken ever again, but he did not attempt to hide it either. The genuine smiles of pure adoration were ever-present and framed his face with the most beautiful lines, his eyes sparkling with something soft and true that seemed to be reserved only for Ed.  
  
Meanwhile Ed remained still as a statue, like he had never really thawed from the frozen prison Oswald had once put him in. Fear, to be let down, betrayed once more. That if he got close, Oswald would see he was not what he wanted.  
Love was nothing you could calculate with the help from logic, and that uncertainty was what truly terrified Edward.  
  
No, it was not as simple as the fantasies he allowed at the darkest, most lonely hours. He wondered if he would ever find a way to crack the ice and break free, or if Oswald would be able to make the walls melt with his warmth radiating from him as soon as he stepped into that room.  
It remained unknown, only time could tell, and perhaps a little bit of kismet—if Ed had ever been worthy of such a thing. To hope that the extra seconds of eye contact he offered, or the way he took notice of details would prove as small hints to what he felt deep inside —under the armor he had built around himself after a life of disappointments.  
  
Oswald had always seen him, Ed could only wish his ability to see through people wouldn’t be clouded by his own self doubt.  
Edward did love him, but his heart would take a bit of time to melt.  
  
The question remained, would it be in time? Or, did he need to go out of his comfort zone, his foolproof plans worked to perfection, was there such a thing as the perfect scheme to confessing your feelings? A riddle whose answer could ease as translation to land into the arms he sought a mutual embrace from.  
  
  
Oswald let out an gnarly shout of annoyance as he was hit by a belated realization.  
“I can’t believe that bitch got away with our submarine, with _everything_! While we were busy risking our lives on the frontline as much as anyone else.  
Leaving us with nothing, NOTHING!”  
  
“Back to square one, common criminals. Forced to climb back up from the very bottom like some low life thugs.”  
  
“Names forgotten, ridiculed as they rebuild Gotham without us. Absolutely not!” Oswald slammed his fist into the chair he was seated, making the dog jump and whimper.  
  
Ed tightened his fists, voice going low.  
“I don’t care for their approval, nor their respect. When the rest cheered around us in celebration of having won the city back, I felt nothing, absolutely _nothing_.”  
A hollow emptiness opened up inside him, a black hole swallowing everything.  
  
Oswald tilted his head and leaned forward in his seat, gaze upon Ed with absolute attentiveness, it was not a frequent thing to see Edward speak his mind as freely like he was now.  
  
“I was once like them, foolishly seeking praise and a spot in this mousetrap of a society. Herding us through a maze with a promise of a threat at the end, only to capture us right before, letting us starve while they squeeze out every ounce of lifeforce they require in order to keep things running.”  
  
He took a few steps needed to reach the mirror, staring into the reflection of who he had become. Fought with fangs out and mind sharp to escape a lifetime of suffering, living after others’ rules and expectations.  
  
“Never again. I have redefined myself before, created a persona outside that box, I will do it again. They will _bow_ to the Riddler, terror ignited in their tiny brains by the mention of my name.”  
  
“Quite right, too. They should fear us, never underestimate minds clearly more brilliant than the peasants who dwell in this city like lost sheep.”  
  
Oswald stood up.  
  
“If they had let me rule this city the way I intended, the way I had before—”  
  
“Gordon took it. Misguided the value of your insight like you were still Fish Mooney’s umbrella boy. Completely disregarding the growth you have done.  
If anyone knows this city, Oswald. It is you.”  
  
“We would be stronger together. With your inventiveness, and my ability to be authoritative, we can have them on their knees to their rightful heirs.  
Fish once told me to make this city mine, or burn it to the ground. We shall rise from the ashes and rebuild it in our image.”  
  
Ed took a moment to glance over his shoulder to study the majesty of Oswald, who the Penguin had become, the wonder and power ignited in his sharp features. Fierce, fearless. A king indeed.  
  
“Perhaps.” He couldn’t hold back the smirk.  
  
“Let’s make a pact, not just an alliance. We will take back what was rightfully ours, the city _we_ fought for, and allow no one by the likes of Jim Gordon or anyone else for that matter —to stop us.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Ed didn’t miss how Oswald reached down to retrieve his knife. However he didn’t stop to consider that it was meant to be hidden from him. It was a clear message to the partnership they were about to enter, the promise they would swear.  
  
A simple nod of approval. “Together.”  
  
Together, or not at all.  
  
Ed pressed the mechanism on his switchblade, hidden behind his back and offered his free hand.  
  
“Shall we shake on that?”  
  
“Please, haven’t we proven to have come further than this? A hug, I insist.”  
  
Oswald was practically glowing, a mixture of pure delight and a childish excitement sprinkled by that devious smirk of his.  
  
A step closer from each men, Ed’s heart stopping as he replied. Terrified yet electrified.  
  
“A hug it is.”

 

***

 

Oswald breathed in the familiar scent of Ed, one he had not been close enough to smell in so long he thought to have forgotten it. He let out a sigh of relief and contentment.  
  
Maybe it was the way Ed's arms tightened around him, or the realization that they weren’t going to kill each other —the time where they would have stabbed each other in the back at first chance had long since passed, replaced by a new found unity —an alliance you might say. ...No, it was more than a way to merely accept each other's efforts. This was a pact to set in stone what had always been true, they would be stronger and more resourceful together, rather than alone.  
Still something more lingered in the air, thick with smoke of a once burning city as it began to settle down once more. As they slowly pulled away from the embrace with reluctance, they were caught in a moment where their gaze met and for the first time in a very long —perhaps for the first time ever, Oswald thought he could see something flickering under Ed's furrowed brows. Doubt? That their union might be for nothing in the end, that they would always come back for each other's throats? Or perhaps something much more unpredictable and dangerous.  
  
Before he had more time to reflect about the matter, the distance left between them closed as Ed put his lips over his.  
It was a shaky, uncertain kiss —a heat of the moment, yet well calculated, because the evolved Ed of today would never do anything he had not already weighed the options for, likely back and forth repeatedly to predict if it would be certain to work in his favour. This was a leap of fate. Just moments ago, they had both shared a fear they might kill each other, for Ed to put so much trust in Oswald that he would let himself melt against his lips, body pressing closer —wanting to explore the unknown with clumsy, unfamiliar touches… Oswald was so certain for a moment that he might have just died there at the battlefield, that the grenade had, in actuality, torn him apart as he bent over to protect the man he still loved dearly after all they had been through.  
He marveled how it was real after all. It didn’t feel like a trick with how Edward’s sighs of content matched his own. Perhaps sometimes, fate really does bring two people made for each other together in the union they were always destined for.  
  
  
_Life only gives you one true love, when you find it, run to it.  
__They had been running towards each other all along, just taking the long way around and missing each other at a few stops.  
__Here they were at last, the end of the road —or shall we say beginning? Finally having found their way to each other's hearts._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully no one was mad I changed some of the lines.. And some other things.
> 
> Please if you like this, kudos or comment. I almost deleted it several times upon writing it because I wasn't happy with it. But friends pushed me to finish and post it anyway, bless them.
> 
> Also a heartfelt thank you to my dear Vero's patience when helping me edit and beta, making it a little bit better. I'm eternally thankful of you.


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